Blood Sport
by CHAILYN
Summary: REPOST. Pre-Series. Dean hasn't seen Sam in two years, but this is the hunt that is going to change everything. Set two years after Sam leaves for Stanford.
1. Brothers

_**Blood Sport**_

_**-1-**_

_**Brothers**_

* * *

_Summary: Dean said that he hadn't bothered Sam in two years, and Sam was--if my math is correct--in his last year of college…so what happened two years before the pilot episode. Dean hasn't bothered his brother in two years but he can't do this hunt alone. This hunt is the one that will change everything._

_Note: I know that Kripke said that it was just a mathematical inconsistency, but I just couldn't help myself, and was begun when boredom set in on a dull weekend with a sprained ankle that prevented me from doing anything but fanfic…so uh pre-series…no other warning I can think of, and I'm pretty sure its spolier-less. Hope you enjoy! _

_Edit: So, I've deleted and reposted this so that I could fix grammatical errors and such to my best ability, so if y'all find anymore, please let me know and i'll do my best to fix 'em._

* * *

Dean Winchester did not want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere aside from the parking lot outside of the Stanford University dormitories.

In two years, he hadn't so much as spoken to his younger brother. He'd checked up on him, he'd checked up on him often, but the time had passed where they could just stop and chat. It wasn't their style. Especially not with the way that Sam disappeared like that without barely a word of explanation of why they were all so terrible that the had to run away and escape from them. He didn't want to do this, but what other option did he have…he needed Sam's help.

With a bit of Dean Winchester patented charm, he had easily wheedled the student secretary into giving him a copy of his brother's schedule. For such a nice place, they weren't as secure as he thought they'd be. His dad sometimes told people with pride that he had a son that went to Stanford…Dean wondered what Sam would think if he knew that. Sam never understood that their dad loved them so much, just in his own way. Dean was proud of his brother for doing so well, but he was also angry. How could Sam desert him? How could he desert their family? You only get one family, and Dean had spent so long struggling to keep them together…he never thought Sam would be the one to make it fall apart.

Dean stood outside of a lecture hall. According to the schedule, it was a calculus course and it would be letting out in a few minutes…and then he would talk to his brother.

Dean still couldn't believe how much things changed in the two years since Sam had been away at school. His dad had changed unbeleiveably so, and he rarely saw him.

He did more hunts on his own than he did with John. It was something that had started to happen gradually. John would come home less, and less, he just didn't seem to think it was necessary with Sam out of the house and Dean an adult.

He had considered calling Sam and asking him but...after all this time, he wanted to do this in person. He wanted ask Sam to help him, and he wanted to apologize, and that he couldn't do over the phone. As angry as he'd been, he shouldn't of stopped talking to his brother. As much as Sam might want to deny it sometimes, they all needed each other, they were all each other had and Dean wasn't ready to give up on his brother and his family. And this hunt would be the one that was going to change it all.

Then he saw Sam. He didn't ever recall seeing Sam so carefree and happy as he did right now. With his friends, laughing, his arm around a pretty blonde...

He'd do this one alone. Dean slipped into the crowd easily blending in with the other students. Dean couldn't bring himself to shatter his brother's happiness, and normalcy. It was the one thing that got him, how normal Sam looked...and happier, happier than he'd ever been before he left for Stanford. That was why he was going to do it alone, if this was what made Sam happy...all Dean wanted was for his brother to be happy.

--

"Does anyone else feel like they really need a drink after Andrews' class?" Mike asked.

Sam laughed along with his friends, Mike always felt like a drink.

"Its a bit early for happy hour isn't it?" Sam asked.

"Oh, its never early for happy hour Sammy boy." Mike grinned happily.

"Sam." He corrected with a frown. He hated that nickname. He hadn't heard it in years though, Dean was the only one who called him Sammy aside from the occasional friend, but he corrected them quickly and they never called him Sammy again.

"How about coffee?" Jessica asked, looking to Sam with a smile.

He slipped his arm around his waist, things were new with Jess but they were good. Even though they'd only been together a few months he could see her as 'the girl'. She was everything he ever wanted in a girlfriend, beautiful, sweet, intelligent, and most importantly, never pressing him for more.

Maybe one day he could explain his family to her, but not yet.

"Coffee, guys?" Sam asked them all.

"Make mine an Irish." Mike joked wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Everyone laughed, but Mike's girlfriend, Karen, chastised him. "If you're drunk for chem lab and light the place on fire again you're gonna be in trouble."

"No, I won't." He said cockily. "Dad'll just make some donation to some dumb school foundation or something...Stanford gets to name something after an old dead guy...I get a warning...and we all have fun! Win-win scenario guys."

Jessica frowned, "You're such an ass sometimes, Mike."

"But I'm a cute ass, right?" He said, "Am I right? Sam, aren't I cute?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "You're downright adorable man."

"See," Mike said to Jess, "You're just jealous 'cos Sam thinks I'm prettier than you."

"Jess." Karen said tugging her friend over to her. She whispered something in her ear, and both boys struggled to overhear.

Jess laughed, whatever was said was clearly quite funny.

Karen pulled her close and gave her a kiss that nearly knocked both boys over.

"Sam, you're not so pretty anymore." Mike mumbled, still a bit thrown by the girls' little joke.

"Now who's jealous?" Jessica laughed, smiling in her boyfriend's direction.

Sam pulled her back over to him.

"Me." he said, giving her a kiss. Yes, he was just about certain that Jess could be the right girl.

--

Sam had just taken a sip of his latte when his phone rang.

He glanced at the called id and Jessica looked at him questioningly. "Who is it?"

"Private number." He said, as he answered it, wondering fleetingly if it was maybe his brother or dad, but Dean hadn't called him since he'd left for school, he actually doubted his brother would ever talk to him willingly again; Dean really took it personally when he left for school. As for his dad...he called once a year, on his birthday and it still shocked Sam that his dad even remembered as obsessed with hunting as he was. But it wasn't his birthday, and hell hadn't frozen over so it couldn't be Dean.

"Hello?" Sam flipped it open and held it up to his ear.

"This is Dr. Sheila MacArthur at San Francisco General Hospital, I'm terribly sorry to bother you but are you familiar with a Dean Winchester?"

Sam was up, out of his seat from the moment he heard hospital, by the time he heard his brother's name he felt panicked. Why were they calling him? What was going on? Was his brother hurt?

"Yes. He's my brother." Sam threw his coat on and walked away, and Jess ran after him. It wasn't like Sam to just vanish without a word like that.

"You were the only number we could find on your brother's phone Mr. Winchester. You seem to be the most recent call that was made from his phone" The doctor said. "It seems that he was attacked by a dog or wolf of some sort, and it's our protocol to inform and try to find the family when such an injury occurs."

"Is my brother okay?" Sam asked, worry apparent on his face. Dean had called him? He didn't even have a message from Dean. He didn't even think his brother had his phone number. Dean had to be okay, he couldn't even think about the alternative.

"We had to take him for emergency surgery...he's lost a lot of blood. If its possible, I think it would be good if someone was here for him when he gets out of surgery."

"I'm leaving now." Sam said. "Thank you so much Doctor. If his condition changes, please, let me know?"

"We'll do our best." She said.

Sam slipped his phone back into his pocket. "I have to go." He told Jessica, "My brother's in the hospital in San Francisco...he's...I just have to go."

"Sam. Sam, wait." What was up with him, he seemed so...vague, like he was hiding something. "When will you be back? Finals are in a week."

"I'll deal with it when I get back." Sam told her, "Jess, I'm sorry, and I'll explain later, but I really have to go...he's my brother."

Sam walked away, digging through his bag for his keys.

"Be careful!" She called out to him.

Sam barely heard her, his concern for his brother overshadowing everything.

--

Coming Soon:

_He'd thought he could handle it alone. When they began to charge at him, and he realized he was shooting blanks, he knew he was wrong. They were going to kill him._


	2. Never Again

_**Blood Sport **_

_**-2-**_

_**Never Again **_

* * *

Dean knew that he made the right choice. Sammy deserved the normal life he had right now; it's what their mom would have wanted. At the very least, he had the obligation to give Sam a chance at what he wanted that chance at the normal life that he'd never had. In that moment back at Stanford it had struck him—he'd never seen Sam that carefree and happy. Like nothing to touch him. Dean couldn't be the one to ruin that, no matter how angry he still was with Sam for deserting them.

But maybe after this hunt, after everything was done. After the demon was dead...maybe then he'd try and have another go of it with Sam...Try to be brothers again.

He pushed the thought away for the moment. He had to get his head into the hunt. This was the biggest hunt he'd ever done alone, he knew that. But he could handle it. He'd handled a lot of hunts alone since Sam had left and this would be no different.

Even if it was the hunt that would change everything for their family.

He'd been following this lead for six months, following up on demons and then he finally got it out of a demon that had possessed a teenage girl. Eighteen hours and a young dead girl, but he finally got it out of her. He just hoped to god it would be worth it.

--

Dean didn't realize how completely in over his head he was until he heard the growling coming from all sides.

Not that he should be surprised that a demon lied to him, but not once in all his research did he come across anything about a pack of hell hounds in the area. At least he _thought_ they were hell hounds.

Black dogs, big as calves with long shaggy matted hair. Their angry glinting eyes reflected the moonlight in the same way that any other animals would, except for one thing: their eyes were beady, and wild, a deep red that seemed to look right through you.

As they came in closer, he saw one thing that was different. One of them, the leader of the pack it seemed, was standing on its hind legs. Hell hounds didn't do _that_.

He pulled out the salt gun, shooting at the erect one and it didn't do anything. Except maybe make it mad.

As it lunged at him, one thought flitted through his mind. He must have found it because otherwise this made no sense...why would hell hounds be converging in a forest on the outskirts of San Francisco?

--

Sam broke a million speeding laws getting to San Francisco General, but he didn't really care. Two years he hadn't spoken to his brother, two years and he wouldn't even have known that his brother had been hurt if his number didn't happen to be on Dean's phone.

Why was his number on Dean's phone? In between all his worry for his brother that was one of the things which bothered him he most. The doctor had said his number was the last one called from Dean's phone. What if Dean had called him for help? Unlikely, Dean never asked for help...but either way, Dean had called him. He wondered if it was a one time thing...All he knew was that all those times he wanted to pick up the phone and cal his big brother, he didn't and now he was terrified because Dean was really hurt. He wasn't ready to lose his brother, not by a long shot. He needed Dean, whether Dean realized it or not.

"Dean Winchester." Sam repeated for the fourth time slowly, and agitated. What the hell was wrong with these people? "Listen, his doctor called me she said that he would be coming out of surgery—

"Surgery?" She interjected her voice brusque. "Well, sweetheart, you should have said that to begin with. You've got the wrong floor entirely. Take the elevator, go up three floors; take a left, go all the way to the end of the hallway, and then a right...and you'll see a nurse's station. They'll be able to help you there."

Sam headed back in the direction of the elevator without another word. He hated hospitals. Thank god, even when he was a kid, they rarely ended up in one. Their dad was pretty good with patching up most problems. Sam could only recall having to be at the hospital a handful of times, but none held good memories for him.

_It was his third hunt with his dad and brother and Sam couldn't help but to be a little excited. It had taken a bit of convincing for him to get his dad to realize that he was old enough, but he was sick and tired of being treated like a baby; he was fourteen years old! Dean had helped out on hunts since before that age, and he just didn't think that it was fair that he had to keep sitting home being baby-sat and it wasn't any more fun to listen to Dean complain about how, on occasion, he had to sit home and watch Sam instead of hunting because their dad though it was too dangerous for Sam to sit home alone. In Sam's mind, this was a win-win situation. _

_It was summer vacation and so they weren't staying in any place for a very long time at all. Currently, they were in Arizona, hunting a windiego. Sam was thrilled, he'd never gotten to hunt one before and it was a pretty awesome feeling of power when his dad handed over a flare gun._

"_Do not take your eyes off the creature." John told them._

_It was common procedure for him to debrief them in the minutes leading up to the hunt, no matter how much research both boys were forced to do ahead of time. Neither were worried, they knew what they were hunting._

"_Don't underestimate it." John said, while pulling out a map and opening it on the hood of the impala. "The victims have been concentrated in these two spots in the forest. Theirs an old mining dig spot by the one area where it could be hiding, or it might be bunking down in the caves on the other side of the forest."_

"_So, we split up?" Dean said. "Not give it a chance to escape."_

"_Exactly." John said. "Sam and I will check out the dig site, I have a good feeling that's where it is, and I want you to check out the cave."_

_Sam was frowning but he couldn't help it, he'd really wanted to go with Dean. Hunting with his dad was definitely serious work; Dean on the other hand made it fun._

_Dean caught the frown, he was a bit disappointed too. Hunting alone was boring with no one to listen to his smart ass comments. Besides, it made him feel better when Sam was with them if he was keeping an eye on him himself. He knew his dad would never let anything happen to Sam, he just felt better when Sam was in sight._

"_Dad, why doesn't Sam come with me?" Dean offered. "I'm sure it will be easier for you, and I'll keep a close eye on him."_

_John eyed up the boys, he knew that they would slack off a little when he didn't have their eyes on them but...they were good hunters. Better then most men twice their age. _

"_You boys want to do this one together?"_

"_Yes, sir." Sam said._

"_Yeah, definitely." Dean said._

"_I want both of you boys to keep your eyes open. Remember, this isn't a game, and a windiego...its one of the scariest things out there. Its faster than you, stronger than you, but you have the advantage on it right now because its not expecting us. Always keep your guard up, and watch out for one another."_

"Winchester. Dean Winchester." Sam repeated as slowly as he could, hoping that maybe she'd give him an answer this time, to the woman at the surgical nurse's station. He wondered if they purposely tried to make people's days worse. It wasn't like their day wasn't bad enough already, someone they cared about was seriously hurt and yet you have to go through all this bureaucratic bullshit. "Please, he was brought in earlier today. The doctor that called me told me they were bringing him up to surgery...she said he was mauled by some dogs..." Slim chance on that one, he thought, when was it ever just dogs in their line of work. "They told me in the medical unit that if he had come up for surgery you'd be able to help me."

The nurse was an older woman and she couldn't help but to feel bad for the poor boy. He wasn't much more than a kid, and looked terrified. Her shift was almost over, but she was going to feel guilty as ever if she blew him off to get home early. She was pretty sure it was the eyes, they reminded her of a lost puppy.

"Why don't you sit down for a minute?" She said gently. "I'll make a call, they may have moved him out of the surgical ward, or not known all of his information so he wouldn't have showed up in the computer."

"Thank you." Sam said, feeling exhausted, all he wanted was to see his brother, and to see with his own two eyes that Dean was going to be okay.

"_I wonder if they get lonely." Dean said aloud suddenly, it was getting too quiet and he hated quiet hunts. It tended make him uncomfortable._

"_What?" As per usual, Sam had no idea what it was that his brother was talking about but he was pretty sure it was irrelevant to hunting the windiego. _

"_Windiegos." Dean said matter of factly. "Think about it dude. Have you ever seen more than one of these things within like a few hundred miles of one another?"_

"_Um...no." Sam replied, "But they'd probably eat each other if they did." _

"_I'm just saying, it would be a pretty crappy way to live life, I mean, if they're not hunted they live for practically forever...its gotta be lonely...and all that time not getting laid once? Takes the fun out of living so long." _

_Sam stopped for a moment to look at his brother in disbelief. "Dude, is everything with you about sex?" _

_Dean appeared to think about it for a moment. "No." He grinned, "Its about food too. Lets get this done, I'm starving." _

"_We just had dinner." Sam reminded him, "At the diner across from the motel, any of this ringing a bell?"_

"_Exactly." Dean said, "And I want desert." _

"_You had apple pie." _

"_I'm not talking about that kind of dessert Sammy." Dean grinned as his thoughts flashed back to the pretty brunette waitress._

"_Diner girl?" Sam looked at his brother in disbelief. "You're unbelievable." _

"_I..." Dean's voice trailed off as he swore he saw something move through the brush._

"_What?" Sam was at attention now. Dean had his game face on and he knew that meant it was business time._

"_I think we found it." Dean said, pulling out the flare gun his dad had given him. "Ready?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes on the area around them._

"_Yeah," Sam said feeling a bit nervous and hoping Dean didn't see it. He didn't want Dean to think he was a baby. "Do you think it saw us?"_

"_I don't know." Dean stepped closer to his brother. "Just keep your guard up. We keep moving towards the cave...shoot anything that moves."_

_They weren't too far from the cave when Sam heard rustling. "Did you hear that?" He asked his brother._

"_Yeah." Dean replied, "But where the hell is it coming from?" Dean turned around to look, but couldn't find anything._

_Dean felt a rush of wind on his face, but it wasn't windy. He turned back just in time to hear Sam scream._

"_Dean!" _

_The windiego had rushed at him before he even realized it was near them. Sam shot at it, but his gun had to be malfunctioning because nothing came out._

_Dean cursed himself for not checking the guns before they left._

"_Hey!" Dean yelled, shooting at it, and clipping it in the shoulder before it could try and chow down on his brother._

_It turned away from Sam to look at Dean, a low growl escaping it throat. "Come and get it, bitch." He said, hurrying to reload his gun. _

_The creature tossed Sam away, relatively unharmed, and Sam ran to grab his gun and reload._

"_Shit...shit...shit!" Dean swore, the words becoming a mantra as the windiego rushed at him and he was running out of ideas. The friggin' thing seemed to be resistant to the flares, twice he'd shot the damn thing and it had been like poking an angry dog with a stick. At least it had let go of Sammy though._

_Sam re-loaded his gun and shot at it, hitting it square in the back. It turned to look at him, and for a fleeting moment Sam was frightened. It turned to rush back at him, and so Dean did the only thing he could think of—if he let it get away, he knew, it was going to kill Sam, his brother was holding a gun with an empty barrel—he grabbed it._

"Sugar?" The nurse called Sam over with a wave of her hand. "I just found him. Dean Winchester. Room 401, he's on the critical care floor."

"Critical care?" Sam was worried, that was bad, wasn't it? But it wasn't as bad as intensive care... "Is he okay?"

"I don't really know. Would you like me to walk you down? This hospital is terribly confusing if you don't know it well." Poor boy, she wondered where his parents were. Either way, she truly hoped his brother was okay; he looked just about heartbroken that his brother was hurt. It was nice to see family that still cared about each other.

Sam sighed, thank god...

"Yes, thank you so much."

He grabbed his jacket, determined. Dean was going to be okay, he had to be. He was his big brother after all.

_Sam watched as it grabbed Dean and tossed him against a tree, where he fell, limp, and unmoving to the ground. It moved towards him most likely, to start to feed on him and Sam still didn't know what to do. _

_Before he could think anymore, he felt someone—maybe, something—pull at his collar and he fell to the ground. He heard a gun go off and looked up. It was his dad. The windiego fell to the ground, smoke and sparks shooting off of its body and Sam ran to Dean._

_Please be okay, he silently begged. It was his entire fault, he should have checked his gun better...done anything...Dean would never have let something like that happen to him._

"_Dean?" Sam whispered tearfully, rolling his brother so that he was lying on his back, instead of face first in the dirt. "Dean...Dean!" _

_Sam breathed a sigh of relief when Dean groggily opened his eyes._

"_You okay Sammy?"_

"_Yeah." He said quietly, "Dad. Dad killed it." _

"_Good." Dean said struggling to sit up. Damn, that hurt like a bitch...at least it didn't chow down on him. "Fuck..." He breathed, his face contorting with pain. "I think it broke my leg." _

_Sam looked scared, and looked from his dad from his brother._

"_Hey Sammy, don't look so grim." Dean forced a smile for his baby brother. "I'll be fine." _

_Sam looked at him doubtfully._

"_I'm always fine, remember?"_

As Sam sat in the chair next to his brother's bed and waited for him to wake up, he couldn't help but to keep flashing back to that hunt. It was the night that made him start to hate hunting. On the way to the hospital, Dean had lost consciousness and had a seizure. It had turned out that his head had taken the brunt of the hit when the windiego tossed him against the tree. At the hospital they had to drain fluid from his brain. It was one of the most terrifying days of his life.

His brother almost died for him that night, and he never forgave himself for that. He didn't ever want to see that happen again.

--

Coming Soon:

_Well, then why don't you just go! I was doing fine before you ever got here._

_Oh, right...when you were getting mauled to death you mean?_


	3. Reconcilliation

_**Blood Sport **_

_**-3-**_

_**Reconciliation **_

* * *

Dean regained consciousness slowly, god that had seriously been a bitch. It was his fault though, he knew better than that. He should have been more prepared. _He shouldn't have listened to a friggin' demon. _At least he'd been alone, he couldn't help but to be completely embarrassed by how massively he'd screwed up. He was just glad he'd left Sam at school...that he hadn't dragged Sam into a hunt that could have gotten him killed.

"Dean." Sam said eagerly, worried, he'd been waiting a few hours now for his brother to wake up and with the nurses and doctors that coming in and out...they had him scared to death. He still had no idea what had happened...because, yeah, being mauled by a regular everyday dog or wolf was real likely.

"Sam." Dean's voice was riddled with disbelief and shock, and it took everything in his power to pretend like he wasn't completely thrilled to see his brother sitting there. Except that their was one thing that kept harping in what should have been happiness in seeing his brother―hurt. As everything rushed back to him...he knew Sam wasn't going to be sticking around very long. He couldn't. And Dean would never ask him to. The time had long since passed for that.

"_Dean!" Sam rushed into the house his eyes flashing with excitement. "Dean!" Sam was waving a paper around in excitement and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what was going on._

_It didn't help that he had a hangover. Dean had been twenty-one for three glorious months and he was starting to think he was overdoing it just a bit. He couldn't help himself though. They were in the city for one of the rare times and Dean wanted to take advantage of all the clubs and wild girls while he could._

"_Dude, what's going on?" Dean asked, "You finally get laid?" Dean laughed at his own little joke, and Sam's cheeks turned red._

"_You're such a jerk." _

_Dean smirked, the same smug grin that had girl go weak at the knees, the worst part was that he know it did and he used it as often as he could. _

"_Bitch." _

"Dean, what happened?" Sam asked his voice riddled with concern for his brother, his big brown eyes matching with a look of worry.

Dean put on his best game face, though truth was, he felt like he went through a meat grinder. All he could think was 'thank god, I don't look like it.'

"Sam, what are you doing here?" He averted the question, changing the subject quickly.

"Your doctor called me. She told me you'd been mauled by a dog...and that I was the last call made on your phone."

Shit! Dean swore silently, damn call history.

"Well, I'm fine." Dean said, "I'm just gonna rest up a day...maybe two. Hook up with a nurse...or two, and get back to work." Dean forced his trademark smirk, "Maybe three nurses...theirs just something about 'em, you know?"

"Dean." Sam's voice was disapproving, he knew their was something his brother wasn't telling him

"I jumped into a cat fight and a bitch mauled me." Dean deadpanned, he sure as hell wasn't telling Sam the truth.

Jokes were better than the truth, the truth that he screwed up.

Jokes were better than having to face the reality that he was face to face with his brother for the first time in two years and the first emotion he felt was hurt. Not angry, just _hurt_...all those times he'd wished that Sammy had been by his side, and now he was...it hurt like hell. But Dean Winchester didn't get hurt, so he did what he did best, and covered it up with jokes.

It wasn't like Sam couldn't see right through them, Dean knew that. No matter what was going on...he could hide away from the entire world the way he felt...but Sam always managed to see right through him.

"Dean!" Sam had thought that maybe it wouldn't have to be like this. Maybe his brother could understand now that it wasn't his great slap in the face to them, going off to school, but it looked like Dean hadn't changed how he felt in the slightest.

Like his brother wouldn't care less if he ever saw him again.

_Sam glared at him, and Dean was abashed slightly. He had been teasing Sam unmercifully the last few weeks ever since Sam had let it slip that, no, even though he did go to prom with one of the prettiest girls that Dean had ever seen, Sammy hadn't slept with her._

_And on prom night too! It was like his brother had never learned a thing from him._

"_Sammy, I'm sorry, okay?" Dean apologized, and he was sincere about it. "What's going on?"_

"_It-It's my letter." His eyes were shining with excitement. "Dean, I got a full scholarship to go to Stanford."_

Dean wanted to apologize, he wanted so badly just to say sorry for being such a jerk. For pushing him away; but he couldn't. He could only see himself pushing Sam farther away. But really, he consoled himself, what was the point in apologizing? Sam wasn't going to be sticking around long enough for them to be brothers again. He couldn't. After this last experience, Dean knew it was too dangerous. Sam was better off at school where he'd be safe, happy. It was what he wanted for Sam, to be happy right?

But why couldn't he be happy with his family? The little voice in his head taunted him. Why couldn't he...it was the one question that Dean didn't have a question to. Why did Sam have to leave to be happy. Their little life, little family, it wasn't perfect but...they did their best. They watched out for one another, and they loved each other. Seventeen years he worked so hard, keeping them together, keeping them a _family _then in one moment it had gone.

"You should go back to school." Dean told him quietly, "Don't want to fall behind."

"I'm not going anywhere." Sam said stubbornly, not moving from his chair. "I want to know whats going on Dean, I'm worried about you."

"Don't." He said, "I've been taking care of myself just fine since you've been gone. No need to start worrying now."

His words cut Sam to the bone.

Sam was quiet for a moment, wallowing in the guilt he felt. What was he supposed to tell him.

'Don't you get it Dean? I worry about you every single day.'

Because he did. His brother was the most important person in his life, he had, for the better part, raised him to be the man he was. If it wasn't for Dean, he never would have had the guts to go to Stanford; to stand up to his dad and say he was going to live his own life; to say goodbye to them...didn't Dean realize he'd given him that strength? He just wished he could explain it to his brother, and then maybe he'd understand why school was so important to him.

"I'm not leaving you here alone." Sam said slowly, waiting for his brother's counter argument. "Not while you're hurt like this."

_Dean couldn't do anything but to stand there speechless for little while. The words flew about his mind but they were disconnected. It was like none of them made sense. Like he'd fallen into the rabbit's hole. _

_Sam. _

_Leaving. _

_School. _

_Scholarship. _

_Leaving. _

_Stanford._

_Leaving._

_Sam._

_He was so excited, Dean struggled for a response, any response. What was he supposed to say? His little brother wanted to leave...no not leave, it was worse than leaving. Sam wanting to go on the school's senior trip to Florida was leaving...this was abandonment. _

_Dean was safe from having to reply. There was a slam of the front door. Dad was home._

_Dad would talk sense into Sam. He'd never let Sam do this. Dad would save it all from falling apart._

"Dean." Sam repeated when his brother didn't reply to his statement.

"Fine." Dean said.

Truth was, he didn't really want to be alone. He was tired of being alone. He felt it, like a void, crushing in on him...sometimes he thought...if he had to deal with it any longer, it would kill him.

"How are you?" Sam asked tentatively, not wanting to mess up the distance he'd gained thus far.

"Just great." Dean replied sarcastically, "I'm awesome. I was thinking about getting mauled by daevas for an encore."

Well, definitely not the moment to start grilling Dean about what he'd been into, Sam thought.

"Do you want me to get someone to give you something for pain?" Sam asked him.

Pain. Oh god. Dean's eyes widened fearfully.

"Dean. Are you okay?" Sam asked, the look on his brother's face had him worried.

It just hit him like a sucker punch from a midget. It was a low blow...

"My car!" He exclaimed, "Oh god...my car..."

"What?" Sam asked, "What does your car--"

"Sam. Shut up. My car, its still...Ohhhh..." Dean moaned, it hurt, how could he be so careless. "The Impala is still on the side of the road..."

"Where?" Sam asked, "I'll go and get it."

Dean frowned, this was a lose-lose situation. Tell Sam where it is, Sam might start to piece together the hunt. Don't tell Sam...

"Dean, would you rather the cops pick it up?" Sam asked, "I'm pretty sure that when they find the arsenal you keep in there...they're not gonna hand it back over to you. They'll probably arrest you for being the next unabomber."

Dean groaned, "Fine." Sam wouldn't go into the woods anyhow, even if he thought that was where the hunt was. He wouldn't do anything half-assed, it just wasn't who Sam was. He was, at heart, a complete boy scout. "Its outside of the city...Greenvale...three quarters of a mile down Armorie...past the cemetery.

"Okay. I'll be back as soon as I can." Sam started to walk towards the door and stopped, turning back to look at his brother. "Dean? Are you going to call dad?" He hadn't been sure if he wanted to ask the question, if Dean would be angry with him, tell him he deserted the family so it wasn't any of his business. Dean's reply worried him more than any angry retort.

"No." He said quietly, "I'm not."

"_You're not going." John told his youngest son. He turned to Dean, "Did you know about this, Dean?"_

"_No." Dean said, hell, he'd had no idea at all that Sam had been off trying to finds ways to get away from them. He glanced at his brother...maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much if he'd known. How long had Sam been keeping this secret? Weeks? Months? "No, dad, I had no idea."_

"_Both of you..." John shook his head, he was exhausted after this last hunt and completely ill-equipped to deal with this. Sam was angry with him, but he'd get over it, Dean was angry, but with Sam he assumed...but they'd both get over it, and soon, it would all return to normal. "Go to your rooms." _

"_Okay." Dean said, turning and heading towards his room. Twenty-one or not, he didn't ignore a direct order._

"_No." Sam said._

_The refusal stopped Dean in his tracks and he turned back and stared in shock from his dad to his brother._

"_It wasn't a request Sam." John said, this had been one of the most difficult exorcisms he'd ever preformed. He watched a young girl die, and had to listen to the horrified screams of her mother for longer than he ever wished to. "Its an order." _

"_No." Sam took a step forward. "I'm done with your orders, I'm done with Dean's orders. I'm done with this entire life." _

"_We will talk about you behavior in the morning Sam." John told him, the boy was out of line. He knew way better than to speak to him like that._

"_I'm going to Stanford." He continued,_

"_No, you're not." John wasn't about to just roll over and let his son so something so dangerous. Not after all these years he's struggled to keep his boys safe from what was out there. "You're staying here."_

"_No. This so called life...? It's ridiculous. Do you really think that's what mom wanted for us?" Sam shot back. _

Sam took his car, stashing it in a parking lot of a Costco not too far from where the Impala was. Once Dean was out of the hospital, and recovered they could go back and get it; Sam knew full well it was a hell of a lot more important to get the Impala and its arsenal out of there. Plus, with any luck at all, he'd find some hint as to what Dean was hunting before he landed in the hospital, since he wasn't all too forthcoming right now.

The first thing Sam did was look through the truck. Machete...various knives...guns...berretas... nothing unusual and nothing seemed to be missing.

How would you know Sam? Not like you've been around to know what goes on in your brother's life. The little voice in his head brought more guilt than he thought was imaginable, but he couldn't ignore the truth...he had no idea what had happened with his brother over the last two years any more than Dean knew about his life at school.

Sam slid into the impala's leather interior seats and was reminded of home. That had been the one thing he could always count on with Dean...he went out of his way to keep things the same. To Dean, change was not inevitable, it was impossible. Change was bad, and even in the two years he'd been gone the impala hadn't changed in the slightest. Which meant Dean still had the same secret hiding spot on the floor, under the back seat.

Sam checked it.

Nothing.

He didn't get it. How could their be no trail of this hunt, nothing. He searched the glove box.

Naked women playing cards...a book of exorcisms...a collection of fake ids...a few different books of matches, from strip clubs and hole in the wall bars, no doubt, Sam thought.

His search was interrupted by the ringing of a cell. Sam took his out of his pocket, checking the caller id.

Jessica.

_John's hand stung from the force of the blow. Sam's cheek burned bright pink._

"_Stop it!" _

_Dean spoke to both of them. He couldn't believe what his dad had just done. Never, in their entire lives had their father raised a hand to either of them...until that moment. "Both of you...just stop." _

_Sam hadn't even left yet, but Dean could already see the strings unraveling._

_John looked from Sam to his hand, as if in disbelief of what he'd just done. He'd hit his son. He couldn't believe it...he'd really hit his son._

_But Sam..._

_John walked away. He couldn't take it any longer. Dean's look of disappointment. Sam's shining eyes, no longer shining with excitement and pride...but pain._

_Sam was right. This wasn't what Mary would have wanted but he didn't know what else to do. There wasn't anything else to do. This was the only way he knew how to keep them safe, and he'd die and have them hate him until the end of the world before he lost his children._

"No, he's going to be okay." Sam told her, rifling through the contents of the glove box as he spoke to his girlfriend.

"Well, when are you coming back?"

"Um..." Sam paused as he glanced over a piece of paper. _Grimoire? _"Jess, I'm not really sure. A few days, a couple weeks maybe. Dean's going to need some help recuperating..." _symbols...looks like a devil's trap... "_He's in pretty bad shape."

"Well, have you called your dad? You really shouldn't be missing class Sam, not so close to finals."

"He's my brother." Sam's voice had a bite to it, and he was sorry, but he was worried...he didn't know what Dean had been up to, but whatever it was that he was in...it was dangerous. "And no, I didn't call my dad, he asked me not to."

Jessica didn't press the matter. "Okay." she said, her voice quiet. "Just...call me, will you? I was really worried about you."

"I'm sorry." Sam slipped the messy notes he'd found in his coat pocket. "Listen, I'm uh, picking Dean's car up from the impound lot now but...I'll call you tonight. I promise."

"I love you." Jessica told him, she couldn't help the feeling that maybe it was worse than that. That their was something he wasn't telling her. But what could she do but trust him?

"I love you too." He said, before slipping the phone back into his pocket.

God, he hated to lie to her.

_Dean hadn't said more than a few words to him since the confrontation with his dad. So Sam was surprised when not only did Dean take him to the airport with no complaint at all, he walked him up to his gate as well._

_He'd thought that maybe when Dean offered, he was going to apologize but Sam quickly realized he'd been mistaken because Dean didn't say a word._

_The car ride to the airport. Nothing. Except for the loud strings of Metallica blaring through the car's speakers._

_While Sam stood in line for baggage check, Dean grunted something about needing coffee, and meeting him at his gate._

_Sam just nodded his head in recognition, he still couldn't believe it was going to be like this. It was one thing for his dad to be angry with him for going away to school, he had expected it...his dad had never wanted him to do anything that wasn't hunting. It had taken begging on his part, and a great deal of persuasion on Dean's just to convince his dad to let him play soccer at his last high school._

_He just thought he'd always have Dean there to back him up in anything he needed, to be there for him like he always had...to protect him._

"Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam asked, walking into the hospital room, the worry turning into anger that his brother was getting into something so dangerous. That his brother was trying to take on something so big―and if it was what he thought it was―alone.

Dean turned away from his lunch, to look at his brother. "Just enjoying my jell-o." He said. Oh, yeah, Sam had definitely figured something out. "Green. Its my favorite."

With the fuming glance that his brother gave him, Dean wondered if maybe Sam had pieced together more than he thought his brother would.

Sam tossed the papers on his brother's lap.

"Dude, careful!" Dean exclaimed, not glancing down at them He didn't have to, he knew what they were. "You almost got papers in my jell-o."

Dean took a bite of his jell-o, and _god_ they should get a prize for crap food...how the hell do you manage to screw up jell-o? He had no idea what to tell Sam. He wanted to tell Sam what would be best for him. He wanted to tell him to go back to school, be safe, have the life you want. He wanted his brother to come back, he wanted his dad to stop hunting with such a fervor, he wanted them all to be a family again. He wanted to tell Sam the truth. He wanted to scream at him to do what he did before, to leave and just not come back. He didn't know what he wanted to tell him. But either way, he was going to have to protect him. Because he was Dean and it was just what he did, he had to be the strong one, he had to look out for Sammy and do what would be best for him no matter how much it might kill him inside.

"_Aren't you going to say anything?" Sam asked, his voice taking on an angry tone as they called for last boarding. _

"_What? What do you want me to say Sam? You're leaving...I'm not. Have fun." _

"_That's it." Sam couldn't believe it, he knew Dean was upset he was going, he knew it, and now...what? It was nothing?_

"_Yeah." Dean said. "That's it Sammy."_

_Sam turned towards the gate, and didn't look back. The last thing he wanted Dean to see was the tears in his eyes. He didn't realize that choosing a life, instead of hunting, meant losing his brother._

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Sam asked, looking pointedly at his brother. "C'mon Dean, what's going on with you? What are you hunting? And why don't you want me to call dad? You're not acting like yourself."

"You can't call dad Sam." Dean turned serious. "Please, I'm asking you not to do that. Do whatever it is you need, but dad can't know about this hunt." Dean was dead serious. "And what would you know about what I'm like anymore. In case you forgot, you've been gone."

Dean could tell by the look on Sam's face that his word's hurt, but it was for the best. Sam was better off at school.

"I want to help you Dean, you almost got yourself killed." Sam chose his words carefully, "I don't want the next phone call I get to be someone telling me that my brother's dead, okay?"

_What could he possibly have said? Dean thought, watching his brother walk away, feeling the tears well up in his eyes. _

_Sam was gone, his dad was on a hunt―probably wouldn't be home for days, maybe even weeks; he was completely alone._

_Saying what he felt, it wouldn't have gotten either of them anywhere. 'Don't go Sammy. Please. Don't leave me alone.'_

_How was that fair? Sam deserved a normal life, he just would have given anything not to have had to lose his brother for him to gain one._

_He let the tears fall, not like he had to be strong for anyone anymore. Everyone was gone._

"I got a tip." Dean said. "From a demon. It was stupid to trust her, but the research all added up."

"A Grimoire?" Sam asked, finally relieved, Dean was going to let him in, even if it was just a little bit, Dean was letting him in.

"Not just a Grimoire. The Lesser Key of Solomon." Dean averted his eyes from his brother's glance looking straight ahead as he explained. "You were always big on all the book stuff, you know about it..."

"Yeah," Sam searched his mind, trying to think back. What did he know about The Lesser Key of Solomon? All he could seem to remember was something about a demonic hierarchy...

"The real thing? It really exists?"

"You really think I'd let a bunch of hell hounds take a hunk out of me if it didn't?"

"Hell hounds?"

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "Lucky bastards got the better of me this time...although, it was weird..."

"What?"

"One of them, Sam, I swear...it was walking on only its hind legs."

Sam looked confused, "Dean are you sure? You were hurt pretty bad, maybe it was a werewolf?"

"Sam." Dean looked at him, "I'm twenty-five, I've been doing this a while now. You really think I wouldn't know a freakin' werewolf when I see one? Besides...since when does Wolfie pal around with a pack of hell hounds?

"Right." Sam said, biting in his lip in thought, he didn't like this...it seemed dangerous and how was a book on demonic hierarchies going to help anything?

"Dean, why that book? What's so special about it? Why do you want it so bad?"

Dean was silent. He'd told Sam half of it, but he wasn't ready to part with his reasons behind trying to get the key.

"Exorcisms." He lied. "Its got an exorcism, and a devils trap...it can take down some pretty powerful demons."

Dean was lying. Sam could tell, but for now, he'd let it go. Pushing for the truth would only push Dean away, and right now their relationship was teetering on the edge of a deep abyss.

--

Coming Soon:

"_Dean, I want the truth." _

"_No you don't. You want to go back to school, back to your friends and your pretty blonde girlfriend."_

"_How do you know Jess is blonde?"_


	4. Second Taste

**

* * *

**

Blood Sport

**-4-**

**Second Taste**

* * *

_Note: I just want to forewarn that my medical knowledge is just about nil, so if I do something that makes absolutely no sense at all, please let me know. I did my best to research it but…I'm sure that its far from perfect._

His big brother, the superhero.

It would drive him nuts; it still did when he looked back on it.

Dean always had to do everything himself, always try to protect everyone. He was, unintentionally--Sam was sure--the family martyr. He looked out for him, gave up things normal guys his age would do, try to give Sam some semblance of a normal life. He was like his own superhero, not like he could tell Dean that though.

_What in the world are you into Dean? _Sam couldn't help but silently wonder, while Dean slept with the assistance of a decent amount of pain medication. As he was yelling at his brother earlier, it hadn't even occurred to him how much pain he must be in after being mauled, and surgery...it made him feel like a dick, and a really crappy brother.

Waiting for his brother to be more forthcoming with what the hell he was into didn't really appeal to Sam, so he did one of the things he did best: research.

_"Yeah." Dean reassured his little brother, he swore ever since Sam had started kindergarten--a year late, not that it actually affected his progress--Sam had been acting a bit weird. It had been months of quiet and ''_fine_' …and it was killing Dean. _

_So when Sam asked him if he could ask him a question; Dean was thrilled, hopefully he'd get it out and things could go back to normal and he could go back to teasing Sam._

_"You promise not to get mad at me?" Sam repeated adamant._

_Dean shook his head exasperatedly, "Yes! I promise, under no circumstances will I get mad at you--now c'mon Sammy, what's going on? School not all you thought it was cracked up to be?"_

_Sam shook his head, and bit down on his lower lip as if the last five seconds had made him re-think this and realize it wasn't such a hot idea. He may be six, but he wasn't stupid. There were just some things that they didn't talk about and he knew this was one of them._

_Dean sighed, "Sam I promise--swear, not to be mad at you no matter what." Dean told him, "Is it about school? Is that kid picking on you again?"_

_A few weeks ago Dean had gotten to the kindergarten classroom early to pick up Sam and caught an older kid--Dean was pretty sure he was a fourth grader, because he'd seen him in his building--push his brother face first into the ground._

_Sammy was shy and small for his age, smaller than some of the other boys even though he was older, and being the new kid didn't help at all. _

_He had been so overwhelmed with sand in his eyes, burning, and in his mouth making him throat sting and feel all scratchy...when he heard the other kids laughing at him, he almost cried. But before he could, he heard Dean's voice calling 'Sammy!' and even though it was kind of a blur, and everything hurt...he didn't feel scared anymore. Dean would make it all better, he always did._

_Dean dropped the kid to the ground with one swift knee to his stomach, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him to the ground like he had done to Sam._

_"No." Sam mumbled, avoiding his brother's glance._

_"C'mon, Sammy," Dean prodded him, "What's going on dude?"_

_Sam kept his glance to the floor, "Why don't we have a mom, Dean?"_

_Dean didn't say anything for a long time, he couldn't. He didn't know what to say. So he took a deep breath, and he lied. He protected Sammy like he was supposed to; Sam didn't need to know the truth. He couldn't protect Sam from what happened in their house forever but he could for at least a little while._

_"Charlotte said that her mom was coming for our class graduation and the only kids whose mom's weren't coming didn't love them."_

_Dean's eyes glinted angrily, "Sam," He realized how hard his voice sounded when Sam shrunk back, he softened his tone. "Sammy, I know this is hard for you to understand but...that dumb girl, she doesn't know anything. Mom loved--_loves_--us...and..." Dean struggled to continue, he wanted to crawl in bed and cry most times that he remembered his mom because it hurt so bad that she wasn't there anymore. "She'll always love us even though she isn't here anymore, she's watching over us."_

_Dean took the last line from something he had heard Pastor Jim tell some woman in church, during one of the times they had stayed with him and his wife and they were brought along to the service._

_Sam nodded his head, Dean was upset...and that was worse than angry. He got up and wrapped his arms around his brothers waist. "I miss her." _

_Dean smiled, forcing himself not to cry. He was better than that...besides he didn't have time for that. Dad was away and he had to look after Sam. "I miss her too Sammy-boy."_

When Sam's cell rang loudly, he was thrown off guard, thinking he'd turned it off when he'd walked back into the hospital. When he jumped up on reflex to dig it out of his bag, the books he had been leafing through fell to the floor and he cringed at the sound. He grabbed his phone and flipped it open to answer it, without looking at the caller ID, in a hurry to quiet it. Dean's doctor had told him how important it was for Dean to get rest and he was kicking himself for what he was sure would wake Dean up. Dean was one of the lightest sleepers in the world, if a feather fluttered to the floor he'd hear it.

"Yeah," Sam said in a hushed, and irritated tone into the phone, giving a glance to his brother who shifted, and then winced as if the slight movement caused a great deal of pain. He went into the hallway, sure that there would be a nurse to give him hell for it but it was better than waking up his brother.

"Sam?" The voice was familiar, feminine, Jess.

His voice softened, "Jess, hey…" How did he tell her that now really wasn't a good time?

For god's sake he had the _Goetia _splayed open on the floor of his brother's hospital room for any over curious nurse to see…and that wasn't something easy to explain.

"Sam, I know you're all involved with your brother right now, but I had to talk to you." Jess sounded worried.

"Hey, yeah…don't worry. Is everything okay? You sound worried." Sam bit his lip in thought, feeling guilty. Ever since he'd gotten that call and rushed off, he'd been ignoring her calls mostly.

"After Macro, I went to go and talk to Jeffers, see if he'd let you make up the final after your brother gets better…Sam, he flat out refused. I begged, I pleaded, I bitched in a way that put my sis to shame--I pulled out all the stops...but he's adamant. Mike's going to see if he can use his dad's influence to pull a couple of strings for you, but he says it doesn't look good since Jeffers is on the Board…if you don't come back for the final he's going to fail you."

Sam sighed, _naturally_, not like his life wasn't difficult enough to begin with. "Okay. Thanks for trying so hard, and thank Mike for me."

"Sam." Jess was in disbelief, it sounded as if he wasn't going to come back. "You can't be serious. You have a perfect 4.0, If you fail--"

Sam couldn't help the nip in his tone as he replied. "I know. Doesn't matter. He's my brother, Jess."

"But, Sam--"

"No. Listen, Dean's been there for me my entire life, I have to be here for him right now and if that means I fail a class…fine. Dean's given up a lot more for me for a whole lot less, okay?"

"Okay." Jess said quietly, doubtfully.

**--**

When Dean woke up he felt...comfortable. Funny coming from a guy who'd just been mauled, he thought, a smirk coming across his face, _only a Winchester_...

He'd felt better than he had in a long time, since Sam went away to school. But maybe that was why. Sam was back, and he'd be lying if he said he was sorry to see his brother back, he wasn't. It was selfish, and it was wrong but...he'd give anything for Sam not to go back to school. But maybe, maybe this hunt would convince him. _That's selfish Dean. _Maybe he'd earned the right to be a bit selfish though. He'd given up a lot for his family, was it so much to ask Sam gives something up for him?

_Yeah, Dean, it is. It's wrong and its selfish and you should be ashamed of yourself. _

He could never ask his brother to do that...Sam would have to make the decision on his own.

Dean turned to look at his brother, Sam was asleep, computer resting on his lap. Sam, forever the researcher.

Dean grinned, but it turned into a groan, and grimace of pain as he turned too far and felt a sharp pain. _Friggin' hounds._

Dean groaned again, quietly, as he shifted into a more comfortable position and caught sight of the nurse who came into his room; she was an older one, he knew she seemed to like Sam. Everyone liked Sam though, Dean smiled, they looked at him, especially the grandmotherly types, like he was a puppy dog needing to be taken care of. It used to annoy him, but he'd learned, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Sam never got that mothering like he did, Dean held on tightly to those few moments he'd had with his mom; the bedtime stories, the holidays, the trips to the park where she'd crawl right in the sandbox and play trucks with him, while all the other moms stood on the sidelines...Sam didn't have any of that.

"Do you need something for the pain again, dear?" She asked him softly, careful to keep her voice hushed as she glanced over at Sam. _Poor boy_, she couldn't help but wonder where their parents were. They were barely more than children, sweet too...Dean certainly took pain well, she'd been in a few times to try and get him to take some vicodin at least, but he kept refusing unless he had his brother standing over him, pushing it.

"No," Dean forced a smile, "I'm fine...really, it barely hurts at all. Any idea when the doc's gonna be letting me outta here?"

"You are a terrible liar, Dean." She told him disapprovingly, "You're not going to be healing any faster like this."

"Anyone ever tell you you're a very stubborn woman, Jean?" Dean curled his tongue, giving her name the proper French pronunciation that he'd heard the other nurses use, and it sounded like 'John' instead of the flatly spoken 'Jean.'

She smiled, most patients ignored it, but she's learned now that he was pretty suave.

"Only my children, and my patients, most doctors… " Jean smiled, "Everyone m'dear."

Dean grinned, flashing the smile that no woman to date had yet been able to resist.

"Don't you think you'll be distracting me with that cute smile." She admonished him, as she checked over his vitals. "You've got all my nurses tripping over themselves; they're just about useless, silly girls."

Dean shrugged, "I can't help being irresistible, nursey."

She tapped on the monitor, "Your blood pressure is a bit high." She sighed, stubborn boy, he had to be in terrible pain. She hadn't worked on a case with someone getting mauled to the extreme he did...well, ever. She would have said a bear had done it if she didn't know better, she just hoped animal control found the wolf or whatever wild dog did this before it hurt someone else. She just didn't think the next person would be as lucky as Dean had been.

"Really? Well, while you're being irresistible I'm going to check out that stomach of yours."

"Or how about I keep being irresistible, and you can tell me how adorable I am?" Dean grinned cockily up at her.

"Dean," Jean looked at him, "I am the mother of six."

Dean looked clueless.

"I can out-bullshit you any day." Jean smirked, and went back to work. Dean's quiet pleased her, nearing the big five-oh and she could still shock a nice looking man speechless.

Dean frowned as she pulled down the blanket, and then gently pulled on his shirt to get a better look. He winced slightly, but hid it well...he'd been in worse shape, after all.

Jean didn't miss the grimace and pulled the gauze off of the wound. The animal had clawed his torso up real good...twenty-seven stitches for one mark alone--or at least there had been.

She glanced at him, "You pulled some stitches."

"Huh, really? So that's what the searing pain was." Dean remarked.

"Now, this makes problems for both of us." She told him, "No, scratch that, problems for me. You are going to have to take some pain medication--no arguments or I'll sic your brother on you."

"You wouldn't."

"I'm a very devious old broad, I assure you I would."

Dean frowned; he hated how those things left him half conked out, like he couldn't think straight...but in circles.

"You're not old." Dean tried, he had her pegged for early fifties, but she still had a pretty quality about her.

"_And _I have to find someone to suture you up who won't look at those emerald eyes, and giggle and fall all over themselves."

"Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you."

Jean grinned, and grabbed the syringe. "We'll see."

**--**

Sam had quickly discovered that the easiest and fastest way to get through his research was to do it when Dean was conked out. Otherwise he was usually interrupted by nurses who were falling over themselves flirting with Dean, or Dean boasting over his flirting skills. He was quickly remembering why it had been so much easier to research when Dean was out. He had been doing really well on his research of some articles on Black Dog appearances nationwide when Dean kicked him out, and told him not to come back for an hour.

He didn't even want to know. Only Dean could be mauled, and not lose an ounce of his sex drive. Only Dean could be mauled, and _want_ to have sex.

Sam wasn't sure how he managed the physics of it but…if anyone could…it would be Dean.

--

He knew he'd read before about a large black dog, that roamed on its hind legs. It bothered him for the longest time. All he'd been able to find in his research were bogus stories, the kind of stuff that was lame urban legends. A black dog, that looked like a werewolf…and if you looked at it, you'd mysteriously die the next day.

But then he went into the hospital chapel, just to think. Pastor Jim would have said it was divine intervention, a sign from God.

He wasn't so sure a nun handing him a card with St. Christopher's prayer quite qualified as divine intervention…but it was definitely something.

It was his answer.

--

"Saint Christopher."

Sam tossed the prayer card down on Dean's lap, and waited.

"Dude, you went to church?" Dean questioned, barely glancing at it.

"Hospital chapel," Sam corrected, "Does it ring a bell?"

"Why would I go to church? You know those nuns—

"Dean!" Sam interjected loudly, "The card, Dean. Saint Christopher?"

Dean had no idea; he really wished Sam would learn how to tell him the information _before_ he quizzed him. "Isn't he like the saint of people who lose things?"

Sam frowned, "Do you even bother to research before you go hunting?"

Dean smirked, knowing it got under Sam's skin. "'Course I do. Checked _Monsterpedia_ like I always do."

"Funny." Sam retorted sarcastically. "The Passion of St. Christopher…sounds familiar yet?"

"Dude, you know I don't like Mel Gibson." Dean grinned, "The man freaks me out more than a pack of hell hounds looking for a second taste."

He wished Sam would just drop the researching and go back to school. The last thing in the world he wanted was for Sam to really find out what he was trying to do.

"Would it kill you to be serious for five minutes?"

"Maybe. I'd rather not test it out…one close call is enough for this week."

"I'm trying to help you, Dean." Sam couldn't help to be a bit pissed. It was like Dean didn't even want his help. "I'm trying to stop you from getting yourself killed at whatever it is you're screwing around with."

"You know what, Sam? I didn't ask you to come here asnd get involved, or to help. And I don't really need it. I've managed just fine, hunting _on my own_ for the last two years that you've been away enjoying your normal life."

Sam was stunned, since when was Dean pissed with him? He was giving up a lot to help Dean, but he didn't care about that…he didn't want another call like the last one he received from the hospital.

Dean was so much angrier than he thought he was. Sam left. Sam, not him. He couldn't just jump back in the picture again, not when he was just going to be leaving. The first time Sam left, he fell into a gaping hole of hurt. Family isn't supposed to desert you…ever. He's spent most of his life consoling himself…even though their mom was dead, and John was obsessed—obsessed with revenge, with hunting…their was always some obsession—he'd always have Sam. They were brothers after all. Brothers tease, and screw with one another…but at the end of the day, they were all the family that they had.

He had been so wrong.

"Listen, Sam, this isn't your life anymore. Just leave, okay? Go back to Stanford, and your pretty little blonde girlfriend…and we can pretend this never happened."

"Dean, how do you know Jess is blonde?"

_--_

* * *


	5. Revelations

**Blood Sport**

**-5-**

**Revelations**

_Note: So, never before has a chapter been as hard to write as this one. But I was determined to crank out chapter five before I become buried in course work again, and so here it is, with a big thank you to everyone who reviewed, or favorite it, or alerted it, or just liked it… y'all are awesome. I hope you enjoy._

_--_

Sam didn't know why his brother was picking a fight. He was just trying to help. There was nowhere in the world he'd rather be than with Dean, helping him. Contrary to what Dean thought, he didn't hate hunting…he had always felt great when they saved people and killed the demons, but was it was it really worth the risk? They'd lost so much already, why should they keep putting their lives in danger?

Wasn't it someone else's turn?

What was so horrible about wanting a normal life? Was it so bad to want a life where you didn't have to worry that when you say good-bye to someone, you weren't going to see them again.

But it had all become a great mess.

No matter how he tried to spin it…he left for school, and Dean never forgave him for it.

At least that was what he thought these last two years.

"_Listen, Sam, this isn't your life anymore. Just leave, okay? Go back to Stanford, and your pretty little blonde girlfriend…and we can pretend this never happened."_

How could Dean go all the way to Stanford to check up on him (the same way he had all those years when they were in school together, Dean ditching class to make sure Sam wasn't getting into any trouble) and yet he could ignore every damn call.

Every call, just asking him to call back, _so I know that you're okay._

--

Dean froze as he realized the words had really left his mouth. He hadn't meant to say it aloud.

"…_Your pretty blonde girlfriend."_

Friggin' pain meds.

"Dean," Sam repeated. "I never told you Jess was blonde."

Dean tried to shrug it off. "Lucky guess dude, what can I say…you've always had a type."

Please don't keep on it, he silently begged, as he changed the subject.

No more questions.

Not more questions.

His internal mantra was ongoing.

"Did uh-Did you say that you found something?"

"Dean, don't change the subject. Have you been checking up on me?"

What the hell was he supposed to say? Could Sam really think that he didn't care enough to make sure that he was okay? Because if it was that…it hurt to think his baby brother could think so little of him. He couldn't tell him the truth.

Of course I check up on you, I'm your big brother…_its my job_.

It hurt too much to say that, to own up to the fact that he needed Sam more than, _clearly, _Sam needed him.

Dean's silence should have answered it for him, but he wanted to know. All this time, and Dean hadn't so much called him up to say 'oh hey, by the way…I'm alive.'

After everything…it had been the least Dean could have done. He understood that Dean was pissed that he left…but it didn't have to end the way it did.

"You shouldn't have done that." Sam repeated his earlier sentiments. "Dean, I called you for months and you didn't do so much as return a call occasionally to let me know that you were still alive. So how the hell is that fair? All this time you've acted like you hated me for leaving…but you were following me? What, I leave and you and Dad decided that _Sammy_ is too stupid to look out for himself?"

"I thought it wasn't Sammy anymore." Dean deadpanned, the last thing he wanted to do was go there. And how, _how_ could Sam think that he could hate him. They were brothers, in the end they were all each other had…he could never hate him. He _hurt_, it hurt like hell when Sam left, but he did his best to understand why Sam did what he did.

"Don't screw with me Dean." Sam told him. "When I left for Stanford you acted like there was nothing left, like I betrayed our family? It was like we weren't even brothers anymore."

"Sam, that's crap. You wanted to go, and I was just making it easier." No matter how much it felt like Sam had abandoned him when he'd left; he didn't beg him to stay, had he? "Don't bitch because I maintained the status quo."

"All I did was go away to school, Dean. I wasn't the one who said I never wanted to see you again."

"I never said that." Dean objected defensively.

"No, _no_. You didn't say anything, did you? You just went along with Dad like you always do. He told me to leave and you didn't say anything, did you?"

Dean laughed silently, bitterly. It was always him, he was the one who had to play mediator to Sam and his dad since forever, and he was the one who both sides blamed when anything went wrong. Their dad disagreed with Sam, and Sam got mad at him for siding with whatever their dad said, and their dad was all over him for not keeping Sam in line.

And in the end….all those years of playing the human shield for the two of them, it was a waste of time, because they both left.

He was so sick and tired of being alone, and he didn't really want to fight about this. Why couldn't they ever be happy? Was it so much to ask for everything to fall into a row just once, for things to work out?

"No, Sam, I didn't say a damn thing. For once in my life I didn't take a side." Dean climbed out of bed--if they were going to have it out it wasn't going to be when he was on his back--not caring that pretty soon someone was going to come in hear and yell at them about the noise. If Sam wanted to have it out, _fine_, he was done pretending like everything was okay.

"You took dad's side." Sam accused.

Dean shook his head, and he could feel himself pulling at his stitches when he gestured.

"Sam, I spent _years_ jumping in-between you and dad, making sure the two of you didn't kill each other, trying my best to _keep things together. _So don't you dare, don't you fucking _dare_ lay this on me. You're the one who out of nowhere busted out with this decision to leave that you barely even told me about before you told dad you wanted to leave." Dean felt himself sway slightly on his feet, but didn't stop. _You're the one who deserted me, _he thought.

"To go to _College_." Sam shot back, wondering if it was even okay for Dean to be out of bed right now. "And the funny thing is, I never thought you'd be the one who'd hate me for it." _At least dad called me on occasion. _

Dean was reaching for a response, but once again his head started to go in spinning circles, and he couldn't think straight. The only difference was this time, the room started to get really, really, bright, and then it switched to black.

--

Every bit of anger and resentment faded as Sam saw Dean sway on his feet,

_I shouldn't have let him out of bed…_

And then when he watched his brother collapse to the ground with a dull resonating thud, everything turned to fear.

He rushed out of the room, yelling for a doctor, and as soon as he got the attention of a nurse, who ran off to get a doctor, he ran back to Dean's side.

_This is all my fault. _

He never should have started this, he should have just ignored it when Dean started, telling him to go back to Stanford. He knew it wasn't the truth, he knew Dean wanted him there, and was still trying to do what he always did, _keep him safe. _But he couldn't help it. He just wanted Dean to understand, all he wanted was to have a normal life, and that didn't mean that he didn't want anything to do with his family.

Their entire argument echoed in his head, even as one to the nurses pulled him out of the room, reminding him it was the best way for them to give his brother the care he needed.

"What's wrong with my brother?" Sam asked her, terrified. What if that had been the last thing he'd ever said to Dean, that Dean hated him. What if…

"The doctor is working on it; we need you to stay out here so we can take care of him."

Sam nodded his head, begging, _please god, let him be okay._

--


End file.
